


Hotel (working title)

by ladyambir



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M, Melancholy, Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:40:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28369260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyambir/pseuds/ladyambir
Summary: Just an idea, not sure where it's going yet.  Definitely canon divergent, post-everything.  I'd love to know if I should keep going ;)Stand disclaimer of I don't own anything to do with Supernatural.





	Hotel (working title)

Hotels have a scent, Castiel muses as he drops his bags on the bed of his latest rented room. It's a deep, hidden thing, generally buried under the scents of cleaning supplies, fabric detergents, and human effluvia, but every hotel that Castiel has ever experienced in his long years has had it, and there have been a great many hotels. He's not sure if humans can even smell it; he never dared ask the Winchesters – at first because it was a very minor question compared to the thousands of life or death things they needed to discuss, later because he didn't want to remind them of how different from them he was. It lives deep in the bedding, in the towels piled on a shelf for the next guest, in the drawers next to the Bible - or in more recent years the phone book or channel list for the TV. It's the scent of loneliness, it whispers to the senses that you do not belong, will never belong, and that this place will still be when you are gone, without pity or remembrance. And no matter how many months you stay in a room, no matter how comfortable you make yourself, no matter how much sweaty, desperate sex you have in the bed, no matter how many self-loathing showers you take afterward, it will still be there, waiting for you to take the hint and move along. Had he ever told them about that scent, he could possibly have explained how he knew that the bunker could never truly be a home for them – it had the same scent, telling him it was only a matter of time before it, too, would be empty again. Shaking his head at his own melancholy, he begins the laborious process of warding the room. He only planned to stay a few nights, but carelessness had no reward but loss, and he'd lost enough for an eternity already.


End file.
